


Comfortably Numb

by Nayasmin18



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Deaf Character, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, G!P, Girl Penis, Girl Penis Brittany S. Pierce, Glee - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Prostitution, Romance, Self-Harm, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, brittana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nayasmin18/pseuds/Nayasmin18
Summary: Santana Lopez, a drug addicted stripper, tries to work her way through a deep depression. Can she make her way through struggles of her addiction, family and life-long sadness? What happens when she falls in love with her best friend?WARNING: Will deal with subjects readers may find triggering. Drug use, Suicide, Self harm, Depression and Violence.This is also a G!P Brittany story, sorry If G!P is not your thing.I haven't really got a whole plan so I'm open to suggestions and things may be changed and added. Tags and warnings will be updated. Although there is something major I’m set on.
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I have had terrible lack of motivation and energy for over like a year. I've been writing things but I keep putting them off so I've just decided to upload one chapter and see if I can keep up with it. I haven't really got a whole plan so I'm open to suggestions and things may be changed and added and I hope you stick with it. Updates may be slow and I'm sorry but I do lack energy :( Anyways hope you enjoy!  
> PS Ramona is queen Ms J-Lo.

"Papí! I'm leaving!" Santana shouted into her house. It's 8pm and she's about to go to work. She got a job so she can help her father out. He's always at work, trying his hardest to earn money for Santana and her brother, Luis. She hates her job but it's good money and she really needs it.

"Okay mija! What time are the Wilsons coming home tonight?" Her papí says as he walks to the front door, where Santana is getting ready to leave.

"Uh 2:30 I think." Santana says trying to remember if that's when her shift ends. 

"Okay. Make sure you take your key." He tells her as he walks back into the small kitchen. She needs to take her key with her because everyone will be asleep by the time she gets home and leaving the back door open in their neighbourhood is a big no-no. 

"I will, bye!" She doesn't wait for a response and slams the door shut behind her. 

She quickly runs to the car, not wanting to stay outside for long, and hops inside. She lets out a deep sigh and reaches into her purse. She pulls her little frenemy out of the side pocket and sighs again. This is how most days go: lying to her father, getting high or drunk and working in the worst place possible. 

She remembers that she needs to get to the awful place she calls work and pours some of the white powder onto the back of her hand. She snorts it quickly and starts the car up, driving to her destination. 

40 minutes later, she pulls up outside Ladybug's Gentlemen's Club. She absolutely hates working here but she gets very good tips. She scoffs at the thought of it. Middle-aged businessmen throwing their money at a 16 year old girl with no clothes on. It always makes Santana sick to her stomach. But what can she do? This is her life now.

She gets out of her car and makes her way around to the side of the strip club to the back entrance where all the employees go. She heads inside and into the dressing room where all the other dancers are. 

"Hola Diabla," Ramona, one of the other strippers, says whilst looking at Santana through the big mirror, where a few of the girls are applying their makeup. "You ready for the group number tonight?"

"Hell yeah!" Santana says with fake enthusiasm making her way over to where Ramona is standing. 

"I just hope Ginger doesn't fuck up again." She leans close to Santana and whispers in her ear. Santana snorts and moves away to put her bags in her locker. 

Santana laughed but the truth was she was just as scared to mess up. It was a big night for the club and if she fucked up, she could kiss her job goodbye. Her hands were shaking as she pulled her new costume out, partially due to her nerves and partially due to her nose candy craving. 

Ramona saw. Ramona saw more than her shakes. She looked at Santana like a mother would look at her daughter. She had taken Santana under her wing when she first started and had been a strong adult figure in this past year. She wanted to make sure Santana didn't get fucked over and teach her the 'dancer etiquette'. 

She made her way over to Santana and kissed the side of her head comfortingly. "You'll be fine babe." Santana sighs and leans into her for a brief moment before pulling away when she sees a few of the girls staring at them.

She looks down at her feet sheepishly. "C-Can you tie me up? My hands are shaking." She gestures to the corset that's hanging loosely off of her body. Ramona sighs sympathetically and gets to work tying the corset for her. 

She catches Santana's eye in the mirror and asks her the silent question she asks her before every shift. Santana looks away, hating herself for needing it but nods nevertheless. 

"Come on babe." She nods her head off to the corner at the back of the room that's hidden by lockers and costume racks. It's way out of view from everything so when the other dancers in the changing rooms saw where they were headed, they either gave them cheers, smug smiles or hidden disapproving looks. 

When they're finally out of eyeshot, Ramona pulls out a small bag of cocaine. She feels safe to do so as it's an unspoken rule that you don't bother anyone when they're in the 'Blow zone', as everyone likes to call it. She carefully pours out a small amount onto the little table they have in the back and uses her credit card to move it into a straight line. 

"Only a little bit San." She says guiltily, watching Santana nod in comprehension. Her guilt stays as Santana slowly bends her head forward to snort the small white line up through her rolled up bill. 

Ramona hates it. She hates that this young girl has resorted to this. It's one of the main reasons as to why she mentored Santana to begin with. She knows how messy addiction can get and it struck her that someone so young had to go through it. She absolutely hates feeding into it but it's the only thing she can do to take some of Santana's pain away. She never gives her more than small line. It's not enough to get her anywhere near blitzed, but it's enough to temporarily stop the aches and tremors that run through the young girls body.

Santana tilts her head up and shakes her head to get rid of the reminiscent powder. She wipes her nose a few times, a habit she's picked up from doing so much cocaine that she even does it sober, and blinks away the tears that come afterwards. 

"I'm sorry." Santana says quietly. She knows Ramona hates this. She hates that she brought her into it. But she doesn't hate the love that comes from her. Ramona is only doing this to help her and she's forever thankful for that. She's the mother she never had. Although most mother's don't help their daughters snort drugs, she'll take it. 

"I know you are." She pulls Santana into a full hug, now that they haven't got the watchful eyes from the other dancers. Ramona pulls back and places both of her hands firmly onto Santana's cheeks. She stares deeply into her eyes and says, "Just promise me that one day you'll stop."

Santana stares back not really knowing what to say. "I..." Luckily the older woman cuts her off before she can respond. 

"No San, I'm serious." Santana can tell by the look in her eyes. There's a fire there and it scares her. "I don't want you doing this shit forever. I love you too much to watch you live this life. I don't want you to end up like me, okay?" Santana tears up. _I don't want you to end up like me_. Those words leave Santana with an uneasy feeling. "Okay?"

Santana sniffles and nods. "Okay. I love you too." She gets pulled back into the hug and feels a set of lips press against her forehead. 

"You're too good for this shit." The older Latina mumbles, stroking Santana's raven locks soothingly. 

Santana sighs and lets herself enjoy this embrace. She thinks about Ramona's words, but she doesn't really believe them. She needs to do this and do it she shall. For however long it takes. All she wants is for her family to get by. 

She loves them too much to quit. 

The statement of 1000 meanings. Little does Santana know that she's going to break most of them. 


	2. Light In The Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely words! It's really encouraging me to continue. These chapters are quite short, but I'll definitely try to make them longer. However they then might take me longer to write. 
> 
> In other news, today has been 6 months since our beautiful angel left us. I'm still in shock and denial. I just miss her so much.   
> So please join me today and send out a prayer, or send some love to family and friends in memory of the amazing Naya Rivera.  
> Love you so much.

Santana stumbled through the back door of her two story house. It wasn't anything fancy. Not fancy at all. Just a simple three bedroom house for three simple people who all have to share a bathroom.

There was Mr Antonio Lopez, the father of the household. He was the manager at a small restaurant for the people of Lima Heights Adjacent. 'Adjacent Eats' doesn't really bring in a lot, as one could probably imagine. And without another primary source of income, things were extremely hard. Antonio tried his hardest to make sure his children were fed and well. He just wanted the best for them and it pained him that he couldn't give them that.

Next was little Luis Lopez. He was only 12 but was very mature for his age. That kind of thing happens when you get a deadbeat mom. You have to grow up early. Santana tried as hard as she could to let him have his childhood, unlike her. She lost hers and there was no getting it back. It worked to some extent but he was no idiot and had already been exposed to the harsh realities of the world.

And then there was Santana. Santana who would strip, just to get money to support her family. Santana who would lie to her father about having a babysitting job, because she knew he would never accept the money and he would probably tell her to quit if he found out. He would be so devastated. Santana who had found herself on a one-way ticket to hell, thanks to her snow addiction. Ramona had told her numerous times that she has time to change, she is only 16 after all. But Santana thinks she's sealed her fate. She cannot see the light on the other end. All she sees is her impending doom.

But she can't blame anyone else. She got herself into this mess. It was only supposed to be a way to deal with her pain but she soon realised that once you're hooked, you're hooked. She found this out the hard way.

* * *

_After a few hours of stripping and dancing, Santana decided to take a break. She was exhausted. Not just physically but mentally as well. It was all bearing to be too much for her._

_She swayed her hips and shot winks to a few of the patrons as she made her way to the employee only door. As soon as she reached the other side, the mask she painted onto her face fell. No longer was there the playful but sexy smirk, but the tired eyes and empty look that carried through to her soul._

_She sat down on one of the benches and held her head in her hands, thinking of how much of a mess her life was. She looked up when she saw two of the other dances emerge from the 'Blow zone' giggling and pushing each other around. They looked vaguely familiar. She's pretty sure the blonde one's stage name is Lina, but she's not sure about the brunette. She nodded at them in acknowledgement and soon turned back to staring at the floor._

_"What's wrong Diabla?" Not-Lina asked. Santana was fairly knew so she didn't really know all of the girls yet, but because she was fresh meat, they all knew her. "Shift got you down?"_

_Santana looked back up to the two girls. "I...I don't know. I'm just tired I guess."_

_"A few hours in the club will do that to ya." Lina said, snickering at her friend. "You know, you could always use a little help?" She turned to the other dancer and smirked slightly._

_Santana wasn't an idiot. She knew what they were getting at. However, her next actions were very idiotic. "Lead the way." She tried to put on a brave smile, she's not sure if they bought it or not, but she was soon on the move._

_The three girls made their way back to the corner and before she knew it, Santana was being taught how to snort a line through a dollar bill. It felt good. Really good. When it hit, she was on stage dancing to some sultry piece, twirling around the pole like no tomorrow and she'd never felt more alive. She felt a warm rush of energy coarse throughout her veins, giving her a different view on the life that was being taken away from her. She caught Lina's eye during a move where she was facing the back of stage and her ass was out to the_ _audience. They shared a smile and Santana mouthed a great big 'thank you'._

* * *

Sure you could blame it on her youth and that she didn't know any better, but she did. She knew exactly what she signed herself up for.

Things began to change from there. It started as a little pick me up before work and a partying enhancer for long nights. Then it was a pick me up after work. Soon enough that turned to her 'morning coffee' for the day, and now it's a need. A craving.

Lonely nights spent locked in her bedroom, getting so blitzed she can't tell which way is right or upside down. Nights spent partying until the sun comes up, snorting here and there without a care in the world. Nights that she's even had to spend in Puckerman's bed, because she was that far out of it, he was scared that she was overdosing.

Puck kept her dirty little secret. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because he understood a bit of her pain. They both had single parents, younger siblings and deadbeat parents, forcing them to grow up poor and in similar conditions. People knew that she liked to party hard, but they didn't know she 'partied' all the time.

She locks the back door behind and walks through the tiny kitchen, into the living room and up the stairs towards her bedroom. She carefully closes the door behind her, catching sight of her alarm clock that reads '2:47 AM' and begins to change into her sleeping shirt.

One of the biggest things she hates from the strip club is that after a shift, it leaves her with the dirtiest feeling in the world. It's not just the dirt from the sweat or glitter, but the emotional dirt. Most of the time she can't shower afterwards, because of the extremely thin walls and you know, it being the witching hour. So she has to settle to sleeping in her suit of shame and it brings her so much pain, even if she's either high or unconscious for most of it.

She could feel her high begin to wear off; due to it being so late at night and Santana being so utterly exhausted, she opted to not do another night time line but instead take her medication.

That's something not even Puck knows about her. She has to take medication for her insomnia and depression, both surprisingly not caused by her habit. They're both things she's battled with for years and have stuck by her, much like how gum gets stuck in your hair. She tries to cut it out but it just stays put.

She pulls the orange capsules from inside her bedside cabinet and with shaky hands tries to unscrew the caps. After a few minutes of trying, she finally manages to take them off and pour a couple of each into her palm. She throws her head back along with the pills and swallows without bothering to grab a glass of water. She's taken so many pills that she doesn't even care anymore.

She slowly moves her aching body until she's laying down under her thin black comforter. She stares up at the dimly lit green star lights on her ceiling and smiles inwardly. Usually when she does this, her mind reminds her of that one time she was lying here barely clinging onto life, however this time she felt something good. She remembers how she got those lights and it brings a huge smile to her face. A nice replacement for the near permanent scowl.

Santana used to be afraid of the dark. Something about the way that you could never know for sure what lurks there set her on edge. Her mom used to scold her for having a night light. _You're too old for this shit Santana._ Her dad couldn't really argue with her about it because they weren't together, so he didn't really have have control about what happened in that household.

This was one of the more tame things she got told as a child, it still hurt nonetheless. She went into her elementary school the next day and didn't really speak to anyone. Not even her best friend. But she knew Santana too well.

* * *

_"Why are you sad?" The little girl said, whilst brushing her hair out of her face. She was breathing very deeply and looked about as red as a tomato. She was a very energetic child and had just gotten back from playing tag with some of the boys. She was the only girl playing because she was the fastest on the playground and they couldn't keep up. Well that was until she saw her best friend sat by herself underneath the big oak._

_Santana had just been observing. Watching her friends laugh and play, being so carefree. She felt angry and jealous that she couldn't feel like that. She wasn't allowed to be a child, according to her mom. Her heart ached at the childhood she couldn't have, constantly being dangled in her face. It was unfair. She wasn't sad, well maybe a little bit, but she was angry._

_"I'm not sad." Santana snapped back defensively._

_The other girl bit her lip to stop herself from replying. She knew Santana didn't mean to get angry, she just couldn't express herself very well._

_"You are sad." She stated simply. Santana opened her mouth ready to respond, but her best friend beat her to it. "Don't say you aren't, because you are. Your eyes are doing that thing they do."_

_"What thing?" Santana crossed her arms over her chest, feeling very vulnerable._

_"They just look like that ugly thing that I knocked off the table a few weeks ago. They do all the time."_

_"Are you saying my eyes look like your mom's vase that you smashed?"_

_The other girl looked down sheepishly. "Yeah, it's like they're broken."_

_Santana thought about this for a minute, staring down at her nails thinking. She didn't think anyone would notice. She should've known that **she** of all people would know._

_"I don't like the dark." She settled with that. It was the truth and it's all she felt like saying although they both knew it was more than that._

_"I don't either. My mom bought me these pretty stars that you put on the roof. It looks like space before I go to sleep." Her smile was so innocent. Every time Santana saw it, it melted her icy heart. "I could ask her to get you some, then we'd be matching!"_

_Santana looked at her and felt her face flush. Her heart was throbbing , with what she didn't know, but it made her feel all tingly inside._

_"Okay." She was hesitant to agree but she's glad she did. The smile that grew across the blonde girl's face was worth it. She let out a huge squeal and wrapped her arms tightly around her smaller friend's body._

_"I love you Sanny."_

_"I love you too Brit-Brit."_

* * *

"Brittany." Santana mumbled as she was brought from her memories.

She could feel her medication kick in as she became more relaxed and her eyes felt heavy. Soon enough she was falling in and out of consciousness with something on her mind other than drugs or her mom. The thought of the blonde angel with the brightest baby blues and cutest little freckles flooded through her brain, allowing her to have a good nights sleep for the first time in a long time. She was her little light in the darkness. 


	3. Confrontations

Over on the other side of town, a girl and her father were outside enjoying the surprisingly nice February weather. The shining sun beams gave them enough heat to balance out the late winter chills. 

"Faster Brittany." Her father barks into her ear. Her face makes a grimace, but she obliges and does her sit-ups quicker.

Their idea of 'enjoying the weather' is definitely different to most. Some would prefer to relax with a book, swim in the pool or play in the grass, but Brittany and her father, Michael, would much rather do military drills in the backyard. See, Michael Pierce is a Master Sergeant in the U.S. army. He has nearly 20 years of experience due to enlisting straight out of highschool. It became a sort of "right of passage" in the Pierce family to enlist in the army. Her pop's, Michael Sr, was a captain. His son, Michael Jr, enlisted to do his father proud and now Brittany plans to do the same thing. She's been training for years, trying to get as much preparation for the battlefield as possible, although nothing could really prepare her for it. Stories she's heard over the years from both her pops and dad, definitely showed her some of the horrors, yet she still plans to join. She wants to do her country and family proud. 

"10 more and then I want you doing the tire." Michael commands as he watches Brittany push herself even harder to complete the sit ups. 

“Hmph.” She grunts as she finishes up her last sit up. She jumps up and runs across her backyard to the massive black tire. 

She gets in position, placing both of her hands underneath the tire and waits for her father’s mark. She stares ahead firmly and when her dad blows the whistle she uses her all her strength to pull the tire up and flip it over. She does this over and over again, taking deep breaths between each rep before going again. Her dad shouts encouragement in her ears and gives her pointers to get better.

“Come on you two, breakfast is ready!” Brittany drops the tire and they both turn towards the older blonde woman waiting at the barn-style back door. 

A huge smile takes over Brittany’s face. Her mom promised to make her a big breakfast after her workout in the morning. 

“Race you dad!” Michael gives her a playful smile as they both take off towards the house. 

Brittany charges her way through the door first, winning the race to the breakfast feast, Michael not far behind.

“Slow down Britty.” Susan Pierce scolds playfully as her daughter rushes into the kitchen. 

“Sorry mom.” Brittany smiles bashfully. 

“I don’t know how you do it kid.” Michael shakes his head in disbelief. “Still full of energy after a long workout like that.” 

Brittany blushes and glances over to the clock seeing that it’s 7am. Her eyes widen when she realises she’s been exercising for just over an hour and a half. 

“I don’t know either but I’m ready for some breakfast.” She licks her lips in excitement, making her parents laugh. 

“Let’s sit down then sweetie.” 

Brittany and her parents make their way to the kitchen dining table. It’s right in front of the large bay window overlooking their huge backyard. 

“This looks so good, thanks mom.” Brittany makes herself a plate. She grabs two pancakes and makes a smiley face using bacon and eggs. She smiles at her pancake man and uses her knife and fork to take a big bite out of his head.

“Where’s Ashley?” Michael asks through a bite of bacon. 

Susan gives him a stern look. “What have I said about speaking with your mouth open?” She scolds lightly. “She’s not feeling very well this morning. I think I’m going to keep her from school.”

”That’s probably a good idea.” Michael frowns slightly. “What’s wrong with her?”

”Nothing to worry about, just a stomach bug. It’s been making the rounds in her school.”

“Okay, has she had anything to eat?” 

“No. I wanted to let her rest. I’ll make her some of my chicken soup later.” Susan says, finishing off her breakfast. “Slow down Britty.” 

Brittany looks up guiltily from chugging down her orange juice and smiles. “Sorry it’s good.”

Mrs Pierce just laughs. She glances to the clock on the wall and sees that it’s almost time for Brittany to leave.

“Britt sweetie, you best finish that up now. You need to shower before school."

Brittany looks at the time and quickly shoves the last of her food in her mouth before running up the stairs. Both of her parents giggle at her. They worry that due to her chid-like innocence, she won't be cut out for war. Michael tries to train her as much as he can, but he's always going to worry, even if she is a great fighter, shooter and athlete. 

They catch each others eyes and sigh. "I know sweetie."

* * *

Santana stumbles down the school hallway, trying to make her way to her locker. She readjusts the big sunglasses on her face and winces as the light hits her eye. She's hungover. Very hungover. She'd done plenty of cocaine last night even without her bedtime line and was definitely feeling the effects of withdrawal. She hadn't had time to snort this morning either. In exchange for her peaceful night's sleep, she woke up and all the feelings that were warded off in the night hit her like a brick, leaving her deeper into her depression. Getting out of bed was a fight this morning, but she did it so that's something. Her father had to come and help her, so he supervised her all morning up until dropping her off at school 5 minutes ago. She didn't care about making it to first period on time. Her mind was set on one thing and one thing only.

Drugs. 

She really needed something fast. Her head was pounding, her eyes were extremely light-sensitive and she had uncontrollable tremors constantly running through her body.

"Fuck." She whispers to herself frustrated. She can't get her locker combo in because her hands wouldn't stay still. After her fifth attempt of failing miserably, she slams her hand into her locker. She rests her forehead against it and lets out a deep breath to try and calm herself down. 

"Are you okay?" She jumps at the voice. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine." Santana smiles at the sight of her blue-eyed best friend.

"What's the matter San?" Santana's heart aches at the worry in Brittany's eyes. Brittany never stops worrying about her. Unlike Puckerman, Brittany knows all about her childhood and mental health issues. Santana hasn't gone into tons of detail, but enough that Brittany understands and enough to worry. She looks at her sunglasses and frowns. "Bad night?"

Santana smiles shyly. "You could say that." Again, unlike Puckerman, Brittany doesn't know about her addiction and she wants to keep it that way. 

"Seriously though San, are you okay?" 

Santana shrugs. People keep telling her that she will be, but she can't see herself being okay. Ever. "I don't know."

Brittany being the godsend she is just gets it. She knows not to push, but she understand that Santana is in pain all the time. 

"Okay." She wraps her arms around Santana's shoulders and pulls the brunette into her chest. Santana lets out a shaky breath, willing herself not to cry. She rests her head into Brittany's neck for a moment. She quickly remembers where they are and pulls away, not wanting to be seen so vulnerable by her classmates. 

"Thanks." 

"Anytime." She winks at the smaller girl, making her blush bright red. "Wanna walk to Spanish together?"

Santana smiles and hesitates for a second. She really needs a fix. "Sure, can we stop by the restroom on the way?"

"Of course we can silly." Santana once again finds herself blushing at the blondes hand. 

"Let me just grab a few things from my locker and we can bounce."

She finally manages to open her locker, even under the watchful eyes of Brittany that usually make her more shaky. She grabs the books she needs and without Brittany noticing, takes a small baggie that she keeps in her locker for emergencies like these. 

"Ready?" Brittany asks holding out her pinky. Santana immediately links her own finger through it and smiles.

"Yes."

The two begin to walk further down the hallway, stopping at the restroom for Santana to sneak in a couple quick lines. She comes out already feeling slightly refreshed and pulls her sunglasses onto her head now that the light isn't as bright as the sun. She however forgets that her eyes will soon be changing as the drugs kick in. 

* * *

The bell rings signalling the end of first period. Santana packs up her books as fast as she can, hoping to leave and avoid Mr Schuester. He asked her to stay behind because she was late for his class. She unsuccessfully tries to hide herself in the sea of students as she hears Mr Schue shout her.

"Santana sit back down." He commands sternly. She rolls her eyes and gives Brittany a smile to let her know she can go instead of waiting outside for her. She complies to Mr Schuester's request and sits back down at her desk. "Santana, I'm not here to lecture you about your tardiness-"

"It sure feels like it." She cuts him off, giving him a smug glare. "You're just going to make me late for second period, great logic Schuester!" She gives him a sarcastic thumbs up.

"Santana watch your attitude." He warns, biting his tongue to stop him from saying anything more. "Believe it or not, that's not why I asked you to stay behind. Whilst I'm not the happiest you showed up late to Spanish, there's something more important I want to discuss with you." He takes a deep breath. "Santana I'm worried about you."

Santana's mouth falls open. That's not where she thought this was headed at all. She doesn't even know how to respond to that. Surely he doesn't care? The only people that care about her are her dad, Luis, Brittany and maybe Puckerman or Mercedes. She didn't think anyone else would notice.

"I've been worried about you for a while now. You don't participate in my lessons-"

"I don't understand the work." 

He gives her a disapproving look. "We both know that's a lie." Santana can't argue with that. It's not a secret that she speaks fluent Spanish. Principal Figgins only lets her take it because of her 'issues'. "You fall asleep in class a lot. Santana you just look so tired. Especially when you walked in this morning and I can't stay silent anymore."

Santana's had enough of this conversation. "Woah whoa whoa, reel it in Schuester. I'm assuming you're not aware, but I already see your little ginger fetish three times a week. It's quite foolish that you didn't check with her first, considering you're always following her around like Mark David Chapman. So whatever glee intervention you have planned, call it off."

He ignores her rudeness because he realises she has a point. William didn't even check with Emma beforehand. In hindsight, he probably should've spoken to her. What if Santana had reacted differently? He wasn't trained to deal with this sort of stuff like Miss Pillsbury. Santana was right. It was very foolish of him to do this by himself to an emotionally vulnerable student.

Santana is once again in disbelief. How did he not know? Did he not check her file? Probably not. Depressed students aren't really the type of thing to keep him up at night, although naming the school's show choir is? Most of her other teacher's knew, due to her having to leave early or turn up late because of her 'meetings'. Principal Figgins's was also obviously aware. Her dad sometimes has to call him if she's having a horrible day and vice versa when she needs to leave school. Luckily he was very sympathetic and made the correct accommodations. 

"Can I go now?" Will's cut out of his own idiocy by Santana.

"Huh? Y-yeah yes you can go." He stutters and stumbles to his desk, causing Santana to laugh slightly. He pulls out a little pink slip and writes something down. He makes his way to the door, where Santana is waiting, and gives the late slip to her. "Wouldn't want you to be late again."

"Yeah that'd be a shame." She snarkily quips. She feels guilty when Mr Schuester's face falls and before she knows it she's thanking him. "Thanks for caring." She almost whispers with a small grateful smile. 

"Anytime." He matches her smile with one of his own, letting her walk away. As soon as she clears off down the hall, he lets out a huge deep breath. "Jesus."

* * *

"Watch it Queerce." A puckhead jock sneers as he pushes past the tall blonde. 

Brittany put her head down as she made her way to the cafeteria. She wanted to blend in to try and avoid as many people as possible. She wasn't bullied, not badly anyway. It was mainly a lot of name calling from the jocks and cheerleaders. She was the only openly gay girl in the school, hell even the town, unless you count that one kid Kurt Hummel. Obviously in somewhere as rural as Ohio, a lot of people will have a problem with it. The jocks were all raised by the creepy old white men that are 'stuck in their ways' and get excused from anything bad thing they do. It was infuriating, but there was nothing she could do about it. 

She almost reach's the cafeteria, but stops her journey when she sees Puck and Santana by the lockers. She frowns at them when she realises that they were arguing. She's used to them arguing a lot but it's usually just their friendly banter. This however, looks anything but. 

"This is getting out of hand Lopez." Puck hisses quietly.

"Shut the fuck up Puck. It's none of your business." She gets into his face, spitting the words right back at him.

"It is my business when you come into class with pupils the size of Jupiter." He takes the sunglasses off her face and throws them to the ground. She didn't put them back on in time, forgetting that she had class with Puck and he saw that she was high. To say he was furious was an understatement. 

"I don't fucking care." 

"Well I care!" He raises his voice getting angry at the Latina. He hates that she doesn't give a shit about what she's doing to her body. He hates that he used to encourage it at parties. It was before he realised that her cocaine usage had become an issue. 

"Keep your voice down." She commands with an icy look in her eyes. It makes him uneasy. The eyes that are usually void, suddenly change when drugs are involved. The hold that they have on Santana scare the crap out of him. "I'm done talking about this."

"Well I'm not."

"You're done Puckerman." She glares at him one more time before turning around and storming off.

Brittany couldn't hear what they were saying but by the way Santana walked away, she could tell it wasn't good. 

* * *

She's seething. Her breathing is hard and laboured. Her hands are shaking. Her vision is clouded by anger. She hears her heartbeat in her ears. Her whole body feels on fire. 

She desperately needs to release all of this energy. 

Without thinking she draws her fist back and slams it as hard as she can into the nearest locker. The tunnel vision that had began to creep in had completely faded. Her previously tense body simply relaxed.

She looks down at her now crimson and slightly swollen fist, and runs to the nearest restroom. She forces the door open hoping that it will be empty, luckily her wish is granted. She falls down onto the floor, clutching her hand and squeezing slightly to try to feel the pain. She's not sure if it's the adrenaline or the traces of cocaine in her system, but she cannot feel a thing. She squeezes harder hoping that she can feel it, but she can't. 

"San what happened?" Blonde hair whips past her face in the blink of an eye.

Brittany holds Santana's hand in her own, stopping the other one from clutching it. She grimaces when she sees the crimson spilling out from the split knuckles. "What did you do?"

As soon as Brittany registered what she had just witnessed, she took off running after Santana down the hall. She heard a loud clash of metal and headed towards the sound. She saw a huge dent in some sophomore's locker and a paint-like splatter of blood. She looked down and saw the red dots on the floor. She followed the blood trail all the way to the girl's bathroom. 

She realises what Santana has done.

"I-I punched the locker." When Brittany touched her fist a moment ago, the numbness faded. Her hand began to fill with tingles and warmth. She couldn't describe the feeling, but she knew Brittany's touch was magical. 

"We need to take you to the nurse, you've done a number on yourself." Brittany grimaces as the implication behind her words swirls around her head. "Why San?"

"I-It doesn't matter." She stutters quietly. She could never tell Brittany what her and Puck were arguing about.

"I saw you two." Santana's head shot up to stare Brittany in the eyes.

"What did you hear?" She asks nervously.

"Nothing, so whatever secret it is you're hiding from me, it's safe. For now." She tries not to sound hurt, but she was. Santana has always been a closed off person, never wanting people to get too close to her. She understands though. Having Maribel Lopez as a mother would wreck any child. 

Santana doesn't reply. She gets up off of the dirty restroom floor and lets Brittany wash her hand in the sink. The tingles come back, causing her face to turn a deep shade of red that Brittany doesn't notice. 

"Lets go now before it starts to bleed again." Santana nods and they both exit. 

The school nurse Penny gives them a disappointed look when they enter the nurse's office. She bandages up Santana's hand carefully whilst Brittany watches over the Latina's shoulder. 

"Nothing's broken but I'm still going to have to call your father." She gives Santana a sad smile and gets up to phone Antonio. "Hello Mr Lopez, Penny Owen here from McKinley. I have Santana here with me..." Her voice trails off as she leaves the cot area, leaving Brittany and Santana in silence. Santana doesn't turn around, she just continues to stare at the blank wall.

"You can't ignore me forever. We're going to have to talk about this." Brittany moves from behind Santana to block her vision of the wall.

"We don't _have_ to. You just want to." 

"Santana..." She sighs deeply.

"No Britt. I don't want to talk about it." She snaps. Her tone softens when she sees the hurt look on her blonde best friend's face. "Please, just leave it alone."

And she does. 

With a quick kiss to Santana's cheek, she agrees. 

The hold Santana has on her is otherworldly. She doesn't know whether it's the sympathy she feels for Santana or the fact that she's totally in love with her. She just knows she would do anything for the girl as long as she lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer to get out.  
> I didn't really want to post on Naya's birthday and I wrote a lot of work that didn't save properly :D It all deleted :D I had to start over :D  
> F in chat.  
> Sorry if there's mistakes.
> 
> I'd also like to warn people that this fic will be quite emotional and triggering. Although I haven't got everything planned out, there are certain 'plots' that I did plan before making this. I'm open to other suggestions as long as it fits with where I want to go.


	4. Sleep Tight

"Fuck." Santana repeatedly scratches her nose and shakes her head back and forth, trying to decrease the 'fizzing' in her nose. She'd already snorted a few lines and had two more waiting for her on the small table. She's pissed and therefore well on her way to getting blitzed. 

Because she punched that kid's locker, she now has a bruised and bloody hand, fortunately it wasn't broken. Now that the adrenaline (and cocaine) had worn off, she could finally feel the pain. It hurt like a bitch. However, that wasn't what got her so angry. 

She's angry because now she won't be able to work properly. Her dick of a manager yelled at her, the other girls judged and bitched about her, but the worst thing was that the patrons haven't been giving her as many tips. If they saw her messed up hand, they'd probably spit on her and call her 'Mexican trash'. It's happened before, so to prevent it she managed to find some sexy elbow length gloves.

Pole work was a bitch with them on. She couldn't get a good grip, so she reworked her routine to include it less. She was losing tips on the stage but she was going steady in the private rooms. Apparently men loved the feeling of sexy women stroking their faces with silk gloves. 

She's currently in the blow zone, counting up her tips for the night. She catches sight of many 1's, a decent amount of fives and tens, a couple of twenties and even a fifty dollar bill. She quickly stuffed the fifty into her bra, not wanting it to be taken from her as they weren't very common. The paper presidents totalled up to 435 dollars which wasn't a bad price for a Friday night in Findlay, Ohio. She works in Findlay because it's a few towns over; there's like a one in a million chance that she'll see someone she knows. She can’t take that risk.

She sorts the rest of her cash into a neat pile with the one's at the front and twenties at the back. She picks up the rolled dollar bill she had been previously using and brings it back up to her nose, inhaling as she bends her head down to the white powder. 

She feels the powder hit the back of her nose and make its way into her system. She leans her head back and tries to relax in her drug haze but is interrupted when someone behind her bangs on one of the lockers and clears their throat.

“Really?” They ask with a scoff, looking at the remaining white line on the table. Santana closes her eyes in preparation for the scolding she’s going to get.

”Yes Ramona. Now leave me alone.” She states simply, relaxing further into the chair.

”Diabla you know I can’t do that.”

”Why can’t you? You’re not my mom.” She opens her eyes and glares angrily at the older Latina. 

“I know that, but I’m the closest thing you’ve got.” She quips, rendering Santana speechless. It is the truth after all. 

“I don’t need _her_ or you.” She subconsciously scratches the end of her nose. “I don’t need anyone.”

“I disagree.” Her eyes narrow at the gesture. Santana doesn’t even realise she’s doing it and that’s the scary part. “You need me more than you realise.”

Santana rolls her eyes and finishes off her last line, the irony of what she really needs blooming. "Are you just gonna stand there and watch?"

"I don't want to, but judging on how much you've done, it's good idea that I do." Ramona eyes the empty baggie next to Santana, knowing that she's done the whole thing. 

"I'm not going to be here much longer so you can just go ahead and leave." She picks up all of her things, clutching her cash wad tightly, before making her way out of the blow zone to the rest of the changing room, Ramona following closely behind. 

The small girl opens her locker and swaps her high heels out for a pair of white sneakers. She resumes changing and puts all of her work stuff into a duffel bag. She glances up from zipping up her bag and catches Ramona's eyes.

"You're following me now?"

"You're an idiot if you think I'm gonna let you leave on your own. Now quit the attitude and get your things." 

Santana listens and grabs her bags, slamming her locker shut. She sheepishly follows behind Ramona as they exit and make their way into the now empty strip club. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are." Ramona slings her arm over the top of Santana's shoulders, pulling the younger girl into her. 

She assumes it's the trust issues, but Santana doesn't know why she has to lash out at people that are trying to help her. Luckily Ramona understands, being through it all before when she was Santana's age. Even though her words are hurtful, Ramona is mature and experienced enough to brush them off. She'll come back with her own words that hit Santana deep in the pit of her stomach. It's tough love that Santana appreciates every time. 

Unfortunately this isn't the same for everyone. When she lashes out at Puck, he mirrors her actions, much like what happened in school the other day. It's always the same shit that comes out of his mouth too: "San you're fucking your life up!" or "You need to stop this shit!". It pisses her off so much because he was the one who was encouraging her before it became, as Puck likes to say, an "addiction" and got out of hand. They always end up arguing about it and they're both getting fed up. It's only a matter of time before he actually does turn his words into actions and tells someone. She's not looking forward to that. 

When it comes to her father, she can't help but smile. He tries his hardest to deal with Santana and it's hard on both of them. She doesn't talk to him about these things as much as she should, but he makes sure to check on her everyday. Especially since the incident. It's hard though. When he's not at the restaurant, slaving over a grill to serve food to the residents of Lima Heights Adjacent, he's picking up other jobs like his night-time janitor shift at McKinley or his graveyard hours at the gas-station. Anything he can do to make sure his children are okay, he will. No matter how tired he is from working 16 hours straight, he'll come home and his first thought will be to give his children a hug. 

Then there’s Brittany. Brittany knows more about her than anyone else. She trusts Brittany with her life, not that she would care if something happened; she understands that Santana will lash out at people, but that doesn’t mean she takes it well. She tries not to show it, but Brittany is hurt by her words. It pains Santana to see a grimaced smile on the blonde’s face but she can’t stop herself. She apologises and her best friend always says it’s okay but it’s not. She knows it’s not. She just doesn’t know how to stop.

“I just have to give Frank his cut and then we can leave.” Santana says quietly. 

Ramona nods and they walk up the stairs, that are hidden at the back of the club, to go to Frank’s office. 

She knocks on his door, knowing how angry he gets when she doesn’t, and walks to the railing connecting to the stairs and his office. She peers around to nod through the windows overlooking the club so Frank knows it’s her. He nods back at her, telling her to come in, so she opens the door and walks inside with Ramona. 

“Chicas! What can I do for you this fine evening?” The younger dancer tries not to roll her eyes whilst Ramona openly does so. 

Frank Romano is a pervy, old, slimy greaseball, who has such a sad life that he's resorted to opening up a strip club so he can get feminine attention. Standing small at 5"5 with his slicked back receding hairline that reaches his huge bald spot on the crown of his head. He wears suspenders over his sweat-stained white shirt to keep his pants up above his bulging stomach. He's everything you'd expect a catfish to be. 

"Watch it Frank." Ramona warns with a glare. 

Santana says nothing and just tosses the cash wad onto the desk in front of her. He picks it up, using his thumb to flick through the pile. 

"You've got a nice lump there." He says with a smirk and glances up to her chest. She notices and folds her arms over herself, trying to keep some distance between her and his creepy eyes. 

"Yes I do." She says through gritted teeth. "I've got $385."

"That's not very much now Diabla, is it?" He says sceptically.

"I did have to rework most of my routines because of my hand." She lies, feeling the hidden fifty warming against her chest. 

He eyes her for a moment, before finally giving into her excuse. "Mm, well that's not my fault." He stands up with a deep breath. "Now you know the drill, 40 for me, 60 for you." He sorts out her cash, taking 40%, leaving her with $231. 

Most would think this is unfair, an old man taking advantage of a young girl. It kind of was except Santana knew what she agreed to. When he was hiring her, he found out her real age and offered her the job in exchange for 40% of her tips. She couldn't argue because he was doing her a 'favour' and needed to cover his own back if he was taking the risk of hiring a minor. 

Santana pockets her cash, sending a Ramona a look to leave. 

"We'll see you tomorrow Frank." They try to make a swift exit but Frank catches them before they can go.

"Actually about that. Diabla I won't be needing you tomorrow or Sunday. Take the weekend off."

"What?" She shrieks. "No please, I need this. If it's about my hand, I'll work through the pain-"

"Stop." He cuts her off. "It's not about that, well maybe a little bit, but I just don't need you tomorrow. We have a new girl coming in and I want to give her a shot."

"What the fuck Frank? You're giving some bimbo her shifts? You can't do that!" Ramona gets in his face after seeing how distraught Santana was. She knows how much she needs this.

"I can do whatever I want with her. You can't complain because technically it's "illegal" that you're working here." He says sarcastically using his fingers to make quotations. "Just relax this weekend, I'll have you back on Monday."

"Fuck!" She shouts in anger, before storming down the stairs, Ramona hot on her heels.

* * *

She catches up to Santana and finds her in a very familiar position: snorting coke off the dashboard of Ramona's car. 

She quickly opens the driver's door and pushes Santana's head away.

"Ow! What the fuck?" She slurs, the effects of everything she'd done in the club catching up to her. 

"I know you're upset but doing this will make it worse. At this rate you're gonna OD."

"I don't give a flying fuck!" She yells back, trying to salvage what's left of her coke. Ramona intercepts and grabs the bag out of the younger girl's hands. 

She underestimates just how far Santana has been dragged under by the power of addiction. Her eyes turn as black as night, chilling Ramona to the bone. 

"Don't fucking touch my shit." She gets up close to the older woman, practically spitting her words out into her face. 

"Calm down." She ignores her and turns the engine on. "You have every right to be angry but this is not the solution okay?" She tosses the bag back to Santana. "Just don't do anymore tonight." Santana continues to breathe angrily and deeply, but had finally relaxed back into the passenger seat. "I'm taking you back to my house tonight, text your dad. I'm not letting you go home like this." She glances at Santana as she begins to drive. Santana pulls out her phone ready to send a message.

_To Papi: I'm not going to be home tonight x The Wilson's are going to be late and are paying me more to stay over x_

The younger Latina shuts off her phone and looks out the window as they make their way to Ramona's house. The older brunette watches her and sighs when she sees that Santana's jaw begins to move on its own accord. 

The drive continues in silence until a buzzing crashes through. 

"I think that's you." Santana silently thanks her and unlocks her phone with great difficulty. Her vision is slightly blurred but she manages to read her notifications and sees two new messages. She opens the text from her father first.

_From Papi: Okay mija that's fine. Sleep well, I love you._

_To Papi: I will x Love you too x_

She texts him back, feeling slightly guilty about the constant lying. She tells him that she babysits for numerous rich white families in the fancy neighbourhoods. It's the only thing she could think of that would explain large amounts of cash showing up and the weird late-night shifts. She moves onto the next message in her inbox.

_From Puck: Lopez! It sucks that you busted your hand and its kinda my fault. We good?_

She smiles inwardly at Puck's form of apology, no matter how terrible, and types her response.

_To Puck: Yes we're good. Just drop the subject and I'll see you on Monday._

_From Puck: I will for now, but I can see you tomorrow? Party at Miller's. You in?_

Santana scoffs. He was fighting with her over her partying and now he's asking her to go back out? Logic is something Puck definitely lacks. 

She thinks about it for a moment. Her weekend just opened up because of the new whore at Ladybird's and she has nothing better to do.

_To Puck: I'm in as long as you make it up to me with vodka?_

_From Puck: You got a deal Lopez!_

They pull up at Ramona's just as her and Puck finish texting. She follows the older woman up the driveway and into the small one story house. She doesn't speak to Santana and the teenager knows its because she's made her mad.

"You know where the blankets are." She disappears into the kitchen leaving Santana to get set up on the couch. 

She heads to the linen closet in the hallway and pulls out a thick blanket and pillow, along with a set of pyjamas she keeps here for situations like these. When she gets back to the living room after changing, Ramona is there waiting with a glass of water for her.

"You need to stay hydrated." She helps Santana take a sip of the water, which proved to be difficult because of her jaw moving about.

She helps lay her down and pulls the blanket over her body, tucking her in at the sides. It confuses Santana how someone can still be so kind and loving despite being pissed off with them. 

"Why?" She says weakly. 

Ramona immediately knows that she's referring to her motherly behaviour. She knows that Santana gets weird about her actions because she rarely experienced it from her own mother.

"Because I love you." She bends down and kisses Santana on the head lovingly. "And you love me."

"And I love you." Santana mutters as she begins to drift off. The long shifts and the substance abuse really took a toll on her body, making her much more tired than she should be.

"I know babe." She kisses her head again as her eyes begin to flutter close. She tries to keep her tears at bay but it's hard. She sees Santana as her own and watching her do this to herself hurts. She can't do anything about it except be there for her. A few tears leak out of her eyes, so she leans down hugging Santana close to her and whispers into her ear. "Sleep tight mija."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know if people are even reading this. I hope they are.  
> Sorry if there's mistakes.


End file.
